


The Three Fencing Princesses

by grab_bag



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tales, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grab_bag/pseuds/grab_bag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, but since this is Uncharted, we do it the badass way. In a kingdom where women are forbidden from carrying weapons or learning combat, Princesses Chloe, Rika and Elena have a dangerous secret. Wandering adventurer Drake, fascinated, is determined to discover it. Fairy tale ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ancalime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime/gifts).



> This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected, so the editing process was very, VERY truncated. Please forgive any awkwardness in the piece; it'll be polished sometime in the next week or so. Otherwise, enjoy! Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! <3

The lone figure squinted against the sun as he surveyed the expanse of the valley below him. Dark green forest stretched to the bottom of the hill—no, it was practically a mountain, he decided— where it was interrupted by farmers' fields and pastures dotted with cows and sheep. The river rushing by on his right collected below in a sparkling lake, and tiny boats skimmed over the surface like hungry beetles. Houses squatted in low clusters around what might have been an open-air market, although no people were visible from this distance. In any case, neither the village nor its residents were what the man was looking for.  
His eyes followed the lines of houses farther and farther away until he reached what he really sought—the castle, set against the mountain on the opposite side of the valley. Stout battlements, looming portcullis, grey stone towers, even a spire or two for elegance. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. Chimney smoke trailed through the blue sky, and he frowned. Occupied. Great. One potential site gone. Still, there might be ruins somewhere else in the land. In fact, the castle would be the best place to find out. Maps and records of cave-ins, destroyed property, old manors. History books. Legends. And, if he was lucky, attractive scullery maids. Yes, the castle was still the place to go, once he stopped for a drink, a hot meal, and local chatter.  
Drake adjusted his pack and started down the mountainside into the woods.

“What, are you lost, kid?”  
The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and Drake jumped at the sound. Scanning the wooded area, he crouched down, ready to sprint at the first sign of danger. His hand gripped the knife tucked in his belt, and he heard a chuckle behind him.  
“Relax, kid. I’m not gonna hurt ya’. Just an old man down on his luck.” There was a rustling noise, again behind him, and Drake turned to face the sound.  
At first, he saw nothing but the trees and shadows of the afternoon forest. But then something moved—what was it? It wasn’t any thing, just unfettered movement, like a flutter at the corner of your vision. And something strange…smoke? Drake stared at it, confused, until there was movement again, and the bowl of a pipe glowed red. Suddenly given a frame of reference (mouth should be here, legs should be here), he strained to make out the figure sitting at the base of the tree just as the man pushed the hood of the cloak back from his face.  
Drake’s eyes widened at the optical illusion of a head floating in the woods. The camouflage of the cloak was marvelous; it was only now that he knew exactly where he was supposed to see a body that he could make out the lines of the fabric’s edge, and then just barely. The man’s face was not nearly as secretive—his smile arched in amusement and his eyes twinkled with humor, making him seem far younger, although he wasn’t as old as he had implied anyway. The giveaway pipe dangled beneath a steely mustache the same color as the smoke gently curling up into the trees. Something about this bothered Drake, but he couldn’t pinpoint it until the man blew a smoke ring into the air. Of course. He should have realized something was burning long before the man called attention to himself, but Drake couldn’t smell anything besides summer leaves and damp earth. Sneaky.  
“Y’see? Nothing to worry about.” The man’s arm appeared out of nowhere as he gestured at Drake with his pipe. “Nothing for _you_ to worry about, anyway.”  
“I guess that’s reassuring then,” Drake said as he took a step closer to examine the cloak. “Looks like you could have the drop on anyone you want in that thing.”  
The man laughed. “Don’t think I haven’t tried! Plus it’s good for sneaking out of, shall we say, sticky situations. Of all kinds.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Drake couldn’t help but smile too.  
“Lover, not a fighter?”  
“If I have the choice. Rarely do though. That’s how I busted my leg.” He pulled back the hem of the cloak to reveal an ugly purple and yellow bruise on his shin. “Son of a bitch didn’t fight fair, kicked me when I was down.”  
“What did you do?”  
“Kicked him right back. Little higher though. He’ll be lucky if he can ever get it up again.”  
“Now I’m really glad you didn’t ambush me,” Drake laughed.  
“What’s your name, kid?”  
“Drake. Pleasure to meet you.”  
The older man popped the pipe back into his mouth and extended his hand, which Drake shook briskly. “The name’s Sullivan. Friends I’m not kicking in the groin call me Sully. Since you already got me, how ‘bout you give me a hand up?”  
Drake yanked him to his feet, and grabbed him when the injured leg buckled slightly. Grasping Drake’s shoulder, Sully steadied himself, then tapped some ash out of his pipe.  
“Thanks, kid.” He released Drake, pulled off his cloak, and stuffed it in a bag. His clothes, now visible, were shabby but clean, and besides the leg he seemed to be in good health for his age.  
“No problem,” Drake replied.  
“Where you headed now?”  
“A tavern would be a good place to start.”  
Sully clapped a hand on Drake’s back and laughed. “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Several hours later, the two men sat in the town’s tavern, each with a mug of ale and steaming bowl of stew in front of them. Drake noticed that the waitress gave a patronizing little sniff at the sight of them, but otherwise left them alone.  
“So what brings you to Malcaniston?” Sully dunked a piece of coarse bread in the stew that represented a very depressing fraction of Drake’s remaining coins. “Looking for fame, riches, adventure?”  
“Something like that,” Drake answered idly, trying to sound uninterested enough to avoid suspicion. As roguish as Sully was, he didn’t want to test him by admitting he reclaimed abandoned property. People tended to get a little funny about that.  
“Gonna try your hand at winning the princesses and the fortune then, huh?”  
Drake’s head twisted to look at Sully, his air of disinterest evaporating.  
“What?”  
“The princesses, the ones at the palace…” he trailed off at the confusion on Drake’s face. “Oh boy, you mean to tell me you don’t know about our princesses?” When Drake shook his head, Sully rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. I love being the first.” He flagged down their waitress, ordered another mug of ale (to Drake’s dismay), then launched right into it.  
“I don’t know if you know, but in Malcaniston, women aren’t allowed to carry or use weapons. It’s punishable by death, by rule of the king. But it wasn’t always like that. In fact, a long time ago—”  
“—once upon a time?” Drake interrupted.  
“Shut up. A long time ago, the queen was a very skilled swordswoman. Sure, the king liked it then, you know? Who wouldn’t like a woman who can handle a sword? But not long after her third daughter was born, she was out doing saber training on horseback and got thrown. Broke her neck. Terrible. Messy. So the king, grieving and maybe a fool, bans women on pain of death from training with weapons, carrying them, the works.”  
“Not that I doubt your focus, Sully, but what does this have to do with fortune?”  
“I’m getting there, goddamnit.” Sully took a swig of ale (how did he so neatly avoid getting it on his mustache?), and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I mentioned that the queen had three daughters, right? Well, being princesses, they’re especially not allowed to use weapons of course. Wouldn’t be proper. But one night, around the youngest daughter’s twelfth birthday, the servants come into the princesses’ room to wake them up and find that their riding boots, gloves, and habits were all worn out and nicked up, exactly as if someone had slashed them fencing.  
“Since then, every night it’s the same thing. The girls are locked into their room at night, and the next morning their riding clothes are all scuffed up. The king’s losing his hair worrying about it, offered a princess in marriage and half his kingdom as a reward for any young man who could figure it out, prince or not. Every single man has failed, and what’s more, not a single one who’s tried has been seen again. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”  
“Sounds like you’re the only one smoking anything, old man, if you believe that crap.” Drake shook his head. “The girls probably sneak out a window or something, and the men probably all get beheaded for failing or seeing the princesses in their nightgowns or something. Kings are like that about their daughters. No princess is worth that.”  
“Then why hasn’t anyone figured it out yet? Seen them out of bed and raised an alarm? And come on, kid. Half the kingdom.” Sully scratched his chin. “Or at the very least, a hearty lump sum in gold and assorted jewels.  
“Well, you can have the glory of winning a princess half your age then, Sully,” Drake laughed. “I was planning on going to the castle, sure, but more for employment and research than a gamble on a haughty girl.”  
“Alright, alright, mock me if you want. But if you’re planning on getting a job at the palace, you’re going to need my help to get your foot in the door. And once you get a look at these princesses? We’ll see how long it is before you want to try and figure out what they’re up to at night like the rest of us.”  
“Somehow I doubt it’s as interesting as you want to think, Sully.”  
“A man can dream, can’t he?” Sully raised his mug in a toast to the waitress, whose eye roll could be seen clearly across the room.


	2. Princesses

The next day, Drake and Sully arrived at the castle. They spent the better part of the day dodging guards and wandering into various servants’ quarters, (and Drake was sure it was safer if he didn’t ask how Sully knew where they all were), but there was no work to be found. It was no good, they all told them, there were no positions available.  
Dejected, the two headed out to the royal gardens, the last place left. As they approached they saw an old man, older even than Sully, hunched over a flowerbed of peonies and struggling with an enormous watering can.  
“Sir!” Drake called out. “Could you use some help?” Drake picked up his pace and grabbed the watering can from the old man just before it slipped from his hands and clattered to the ground. The man let out a great sigh and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.  
“Thank you, young man. I’m far too old to be lugging this can around the entire garden all day.” The man sank down into an ornately carved bench, his white hair damp with sweat.  
“Don’t you have any garden hands around here?” Sully asked as he sat next to the man. Drake could have sworn he saw Sully wink at him.  
“Not a one, I’m afraid. Used to have two gentlemen, but one got into a nasty fight recently and likely won’t be walking well enough to come back, and the other tried his hand at the princesses’ secret just the other night. Haven’t seen him since.”  
“What a shame,” Sully said, sucking on his pipe. “If only there were some strapping young man looking for employment who could help you out with that. Preferably a good-looking fellow, give the princesses something nice to see on their walks through the garden. Handy with watering cans. Drake, do we know anyone fits that description?”  
The old man’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “I see what you’re getting at, friend. Well. Mr. Drake was it? Interested?”  
Drake looked back and forth between the two of them, slightly confused as to what had just happened, but not about to say no when the work practically did itself for him.  
“Uh, sure! Sounds good, Mr…?”  
“Call me Karl. You can start immediately. I’ll show you around the flower beds, the hedge maze, your hut. The whole place.” Karl rose from the bench and turned towards the rest of the gardens.  
“Great. A hut,” Drake muttered. But he hoisted the watering can and fell into step behind Karl and Sully. He could hear Sully chattering away already.  
“I like you, Karl. Tell me, this brawling garden hand of yours, he didn’t happen to get kicked in uh, his watering hose, did he?”  
“He did, as a matter of fact! How did you know?”  
“Oh, just a hunch.”

Drake started work the next day. It was back breaking. He told himself over and over, “it’s just to get on the inside, it’s just so I can sneak in and find information on local ruins to loot,” but Karl kept him so busy all morning, he wondered when he would even have an opportunity to take a piss, let alone locate the library and dig through the palace records.  
Another thing he couldn’t figure out was how the old man had done all this work on his own without garden hands. Besides watering every flower bed twice a day, he had to trim the hedge mazes, weed the gardens, break up soil for new plantings, sharpen the tools, and tend the lawns. And, Karl assured as he sat with Sully under the shade of an enormous potted fern, that wasn’t even counting the seasonal work. The height of summer was approaching, which meant that the roses were needing extra attention, the sunflowers had to be propped up, the fountains cleaned daily and the fertilizer spread weekly (not a chore he was looking forward to). The nice easy jobs, like collecting bouquets of flowers for the servants to put in vases around the castle or building corsages for the princesses, went to Karl.  
As for the princesses themselves, Drake did not even see even a glimpse of them until his third day. He had been cursing at a particularly stubborn rose bush when he glanced up and saw three ladies entering the hedge maze. Concerned that they might get hopelessly lost, but more concerned that it would fall to him to find them and lead them out at day’s end when all he wanted to do was get a pint with Sully at the tavern and then collapse in his hut, he put down his pruning shears and jogged up to them.  
“Ladies, you do know that this maze is particularly difficult?” When none of them turned, he placed a gloved hand on the arm of the one closest to him and raised his voice slightly. “Perhaps a stroll around the flower beds would—”  
His voice trailed off as the woman turned to face him. Her eyes were startlingly blue, pairing neatly with her blonde hair swept back in a simple chignon, and bore into him. And, he dazedly realized a moment later, she was wearing the royal crest at her throat.  
Immediately dropping his hand and taking a step back, he took in the sight of the three women properly now. They were not in the elaborate gowns he had expected, nor were they dripping with jewels or attended by servants. Their dresses were simple, except for the pops of rich color at the waistband and sleeves, and were clearly well tailored with high-quality fabric (although, since they were definitely not silk or velvet, it was nothing Drake could name). Each wore a corsage of flowers, the royal crest, and each carried herself with pride that clearly said _I am a princess._  
The woman farthest from Drake stepped forward, and her dark eyes scanned him up and down unabashedly. This woman was powerful, there was no doubt about that. She tossed her chestnut hair back over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows.  
“Flower boy,” she announced to her sisters in a decided tone that dared him to just try and correct her. “New. To replace the one with the fool ambitions that disappeared last week. This one’s not much smarter.” Drake inhaled as if about to contradict, but she ignored him. “We know our way through the maze well enough.”  
“Excuse me, princess,” Drake began, “I only thought—”  
“Whatever you thought, it was wrong.” The petite woman in the middle lifted her chin. “And you can save your self-indulgent chivalry. We need no escort.”  
“I didn’t actually offer one, and with attitudes like that I have no intent to ever try,” Drake said without thinking. The first woman drew herself up to full height and, in an odd gesture, placed her palms flat against her hips. Immediately the blonde moved to her sister and gently touched her elbow.  
“I think, Chloe, that that would suit us perfectly. Right, Rika?” She stared pointedly at Rika, who only lifted one slight shoulder and turned away as if she couldn’t be bothered. Chloe subtly shook off her younger sister’s hand.  
“Fine.” Chloe narrowed her eyes at Drake, then linked arms with Rika as the two of them entered the hedge maze.  
Drake turned to the blonde. “Thanks for—”  
“Save it,” she said. “It wasn’t for you. New hire or not, you should know better than to talk to any lady in the palace like that.” She stared back at the castle beyond the gardens. “You’re lucky it was only us.”  
“Lucky? You think that was lucky? You’re the princesses for god’s sake!”  
She nodded her head with a slight smile. “Lucky, Flower Boy. We’re probably the most forgiving women you’ll meet here. Anyone else would have had your job for just talking to a woman of status with your shirt untucked like that. Not very professional.”  
“My shirt?” Drake looked down. “It’s not that untucked, is it? It looks kind of roguish I thought…”  
But whatever the youngest princess thought about his only-partially-tucked-in shirt he never found out. At that moment, Chloe’s voice came from somewhere within the hedge maze. “Elena! Are you joining us or not!?”  
“Coming!” She gave a last look back at Drake as she gathered her skirts and darted into the maze.  
He stared at the entrance to the maze for a bit longer than he would have liked before he went back to his work. Much later that evening, he happened to glance up and see the three princesses as they headed back towards the castle, and he would never admit it, but he was a little disappointed that they were right about not needing help getting out of the maze after all.


	3. Secrets and Plans

After that day, Drake began running into the princesses often, usually on their way to the maze. Some days Elena would smile at him as they went past, but on just as many days the three were engaged in conversation, or busy looking back at the castle, and they completely ignored him (are they worried they’re being followed? Drake thought to himself). She never acknowledged him on their hurried way back to the palace, however. He also noticed they spent a peculiarly long amount of time among the hedges, and occasionally when he went through trimming the bushes he came across broken sticks that were too long and straight to have possibly come from within the maze.  
During his second week, Karl needed to personally help the head cook tend to her herb garden one morning, so for the first time Drake was in charge of bringing the princesses their corsages. Sully somehow found this endlessly amusing.  
“Didn’t think you’d be a florist on this job, did you?” He cut several lengths of ribbon as Drake attempted to twist foxglove blooms into vaguely presentable bundles.  
“I didn’t think I’d be waiting on princesses much either, but it seems my job covers a lot of unusual territory,” Drake quipped. “And I haven’t had a single chance to get up to the palace libraries yet. What have you been doing all this time?”  
“Important things.” He handed off a ribbon. “Reconnecting with old acquaintances. Completely unsuspicious types.”  
“Like that laundress I saw hanging around on Saturday?” Drake looped the ribbon around the last corsage and tied as neat a bow as he could manage. “Or the cook last Tuesday? Or—”  
Sully dropped a basket on the ironwork table. “Yes, you’re very smart, kid. Shut up.”  
They placed the corsages in the basket and walked the cobbled path to the palace. To their surprise, there was something of a commotion, with unfamiliar guards in foreign regal uniforms waiting at the entrance. Sully and Drake exchanged looks, then ducked into a servants door off to the side. They passed through the kitchen, which was bustling with preparations for the day’s meals, and Sully vanished for a few minutes, then returned to Drake’s side with news as they hurried down an overcrowded hall.  
“It’s some prince or duke or something. Here to try to figure out the princesses’ secret and win one of them for his queen.” Sully turned into a quiet corridor, checking both ways before setting out with long strides. “We’d better do this quick. I doubt the princesses know yet, but I’d bet my pants they’ll be in bad moods as soon as they find out.”  
“Great.” Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls, and after a number of twists and turns, Sully stepped out into a much grander hallway near an elaborately carved door.  
“Here we are,” Sully said, and he knocked briskly, then moved back to a respectful distance.  
“Should I be afraid to ask how you know the servants’ halls to the princesses’ room so well?” Drake murmured. Sully only had time to respond, “Thank a certain chamber maid or two,” before the door handle turned.  
“You’re early this morning, Karl.” Chloe’s voice floated out before she finished opening the door, and when she saw who was standing there, her eyes grew wide. She quickly composed herself, however, and took on a frosty tone.  
“Flower Boy. How nice to see you and your…father?” Sully swept into a low bow, took her left hand in his, and lifted it delicately to his lips.  
“His uncle, Your Highness, and helping him on his task of delivering your corsage this morning. And may I say that you look radiant today.” The corners of Chloe’s mouth twitched.  
“Flatterer. I’ll be hearing enough of that from Lord Roman this afternoon. Still, you have far better manners than your nephew here.” She seized the basket from Drake’s hands and reached for the door handle. “Good day, Flower Boy.”  
“Wait,” Drake said, and he stuck his foot out to stop the door. “I was hoping to speak with Elena.” Sully looked at him with surprise, which quite honestly was how Drake felt—he hadn’t planned this at all, but something in him told him to take the chance.  
Chloe’s eyebrows rose slightly, but she shrugged and shut the door. Drake’s spirits fell, and he was about to leave when it reopened and Elena stepped out into the hall.  
“You wanted to speak with me?” she said, her tone revealing nothing of how she felt about this.  
“It will only be a moment.” He turned to Sully and fixed him with a look. “Sul—I mean, Uncle Sullivan. I think Karl needed your help when we finished.” When he didn’t move, he added, “You know, with that thing? Somewhere else?”  
Sully finally got it. He bowed low to the princess and left. Drake turned back to Elena.  
“So…there’s some Lord here today,” he began.  
“I know. Our chambermaid told us this morning when they unlocked our door,” she said. “Was that all you needed to tell me?”  
“No, no,” he stammered. “I’m just trying to get an understanding of how it works here. So…so he’s going to try and figure out your ah, your secret, then?”  
If Elena was unreadable before, she was completely blank now. “There is no secret. We do nothing at night but sleep. He wastes his time. Like all of them.”  
“If there is no secret, how do you explain that cut on your wrist?” Drake pointed down to Elena’s right arm, where a small nick above her thumb glared darkly with dried beads of blood. Elena blushed furiously. “And does this secret have anything to do with why you and your sisters spend so much time in the hedge maze every day? And why, when your sisters feel threatened, do their hands go to their hips as if seeking a weapon?” Elena said nothing, and Drake pushed on, his voice gentle and low now. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I’m curious though, how you manage it, where you learn. Only curious.”  
Elena’s eyes sparked. “Forgive me if I don’t believe your sincerity. Men with far more power and far less to gain than you have tried that approach. My father included.” With that, she went back into her room and shut the door, but just before it closed she peered through the gap at him.  
“There is no secret. And even if there was? You haven’t any proof.” And then the door clicked shut.  
From that moment on, Drake stopped caring about visiting the palace libraries to search for local ruins. He had a far more fascinating mystery right in front of him.

That afternoon, once the fountains had been cleaned and the flowerbeds weeded and the walkways swept to impress the visiting Lord and his entourage, Drake took a snack break in his hut. He sat quietly, thinking hard, and when Sully finally came in from his visit to the laundry rooms, he knew what he needed.  
“Sullivan,” he began, and was met with a sigh as Sully lowered himself into the other chair.  
“This can’t be good.”  
“Keep your shirt on, you don’t even know what I’m about to say.”  
“I know enough that when someone uses your full name they’re about to either give you bad news or ask a huge favor.”  
“Err…ok, well. Yes. I need a favor.”  
Sully leaned back and crossed his arms. “Told you.”  
“Your cloak. Is it possessed of any…special abilities?” Sully’s eyes immediately narrowed.  
“Why? What gave you that idea?”  
“How else would you be able to juggle so many clandestine meetings up at the castle without a way to sneak around?”  
Sully puffed at his pipe. “You’re a smart kid.”  
“You’re predictable. And I’m just observant.”  
“Fine. Yes, the camouflage is not strictly limited to the outdoors. I’m not saying I know how the damn thing works, but it works pretty much anywhere, so long as you’re not standing in direct sunlight.”  
“Hmm.” Drake studied the patterns in the grooved wooden tabletop in silence.  
Sully leveled his gaze at Drake. “Did you want to ask me something?”  
“Yeah. Why are you still here?” Sully’s mustache bristled, and Drake grinned. “Sorry. I meant could I borrow your cloak?”  
“I hope you’re not planning on making a midnight visit to that princess.” For once, the older man’s tone was sincere. “There are some lines even I won’t cross, and that’s one of them.”  
“No, it’s not that,” Drake said. “But it’s still something that I really, really shouldn’t get caught doing.”  
“In that case, I don’t want to hear another word.” Sully pulled himself to his feet and strode to the cot near the fire he slept on. From under the straw pallet he pulled out the cloak and tossed it to Drake. “Here. I want it back when you’re done. And don’t rip, tear, stain, burn, stretch, embroider or lose it.”  
“…Embroider?”  
“Long story. Just don’t do it.”  
“Fair enough, Sully. Fair enough.”


	4. Intrigue

Shortly after supper, Drake threw the cloak over his shoulders and snuck quietly up to the castle. The royal family was still entertaining Lord Roman, so most of the household was collected in the main hall, making Drake’s job of sneaking into the Lord’s chambers easy. Several hours passed, with Drake concealed by the cloak and hidden in the closet, until finally Lord Roman returned and prepared for his long night of vigilance. From the way he fumbled at his dresser removing his vest, however, Drake could tell he’d had a few glasses of vino tinto at dinner.  
A knock at the door caught both of them by surprise, but even more surprising was the visitor—Chloe, in what appeared to be a night shift, and not a terribly demure one at that. Drake goggled at her from his hiding place as she spoke to Lord Roman.  
“My Lord,” she said, in a coquettish tone that Drake hadn’t even thought she was capable of, let alone one he had ever heard, “You mentioned to me at supper that you were quite skilled at, what was it again?” She placed a hand to her temple and pouted as if she were trying to remember. “Some sort of fighting style…”  
“Ah, my dear,” Lord Roman said in an oily voice, “it is an ancient technique I picked up in the Far East during my travels there. I would be glad to show you some time when you are more…appropriately attired…” He coughed subtly, and Chloe gasped in what Drake could tell was false modesty.  
“Well, my Lord, I’m afraid that…you see, I…” She seemed to be debating on whether or not to tell him something crucially important. Or, more accurately, she was going to tell him something she wanted him to think was crucially important and so deigned to make it look like a struggle for her.  
“What is it, pet?” Drake flinched, and thought he saw Chloe flinch too. He was glad he hadn’t eavesdropped at dinner.  
“My Lord, I must be forward with you. You are so different from all the other men who have tried to discover our secret, and I find you simply too charming to continue this charade.” She spoke earnestly, and maybe Lord Roman believed it, but to Drake it was a painfully transparent flirtation, which he couldn’t even guess what the reason for. Unless…  
“My sisters and I, we do in fact have a means of sneaking out at night,” Chloe continued, softer now, so that Drake had to strain to hear her. “We enjoy watching demonstrations of sport and weaponry, but we cannot let our father know. He is so strongly against the idea of women learning physical arts, but we are…we are quite eager. And badly behaved, I’m afraid, but there it is.” She smiled up at Lord Roman and placed a hand on his arm. “Of course as the oldest and heir apparent, he expects me to keep my sisters in line, but they are so insistent, and we…I find you too fascinating to pass up. Would you honor us with a demonstration this night?”  
Roman thought it over for a moment, then asked, “You’re telling me all this quite freely. Will your hand be as freely given when the king asks me in the morning the truth behind your nighttime activities?” Maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks, Drake thought.  
Chloe looked around them, then satisfied they were truly alone replied, “My Lord, I would not be asking you to join me tonight if I did not expect you to tell my father. My sisters, they are young and would be content to continue like this for many more years. But I am tired of this life, sneaking out of bed and disguising ourselves so that we may go watch fights and duels by moonlight. I wish to be married, made a respectable wife. I would tell my father myself, but then he would choose a husband for me. I see you as my chance to choose a truly noble man for my husband. This I swear to you, sir.”  
The speech seemed to have the desired effect on Lord Roman. He quietly nodded his assent, and took her hand in his to kiss. “My lady, you honor me with your choice. I would go to your father now and tell him, if it pleases you.”  
“No!” Chloe jumped, pulling her hand back. “I mean, no, sir. My sisters, they think only that you will be joining us for your demonstration tonight. I would not want them to learn of my intentions before tomorrow morning, or they would concoct some lies to keep us apart, I am sure of it. No.” She took a step back, and finished, “Instead, when you come to sit in the antechamber of our room tonight as our father instructs, you must say nothing of this. Wear your sturdiest boots and cloak, and bring with you whatever you may need for your fighting art, but keep it hidden. But I must go. Until later, my Lord.”  
“Until later, my lady.” Chloe blew a kiss at Lord Roman as she left. Drake nearly gagged.  
It took very little preparation for Lord Roman to decide he was ready and leave the room. Drake quietly slipped out of the closet and followed him down the hallway towards the princesses’ room. Once there, Lord Roman met with the king, who explained that he was to sit in a chair in the antechamber of the room, which would be locked. The princesses each had a bell pull next to their bed in case he tried anything untoward, and there would be a servant with the key outside the room all night listening. It was his responsibility to try and figure out what the princesses did all night that should leave them exhausted and their clothes in such a state each morning. The king then ushered him into the antechamber; Drake only just barely made it inside before the king wished Lord Roman good luck and locked the carved door from the outside.  
Lord Roman sat quietly for a long time, Drake hidden in the corner of the antechamber and making no movement, no sound at all. Finally, there was a small cough from within the room proper, and the door swung open. The sisters had changed into their riding habits, cloaks, boots, and gloves (which they were, Drake noticed, if not brand new, then expertly mended). The cut of the habits was sporty, well-fitted and supportive without any embellishments, yet the three princesses wore them with grace that suggested they were not only proud of their attire, but comfortable. Chloe gestured for Lord Roman to take her arm; Drake thought he saw Rika roll her eyes as Roman leapt out of his chair and scurried to her sister’s side.  
Footsteps light, Drake followed as Chloe led Roman to the far wall of their room, which was draped with an enormous ceiling-to-floor tapestry depicting a gaggle of finely-dressed ladies embroidering in a solar. While Chloe spoke in low tones to Lord Roman, Elena pulled aside a corner of the heavy woven fabric. As far as Drake could tell, the wall looked seamless, but his experience with secret passages told him there was more to the wooden paneling than he could see. Sure enough, Rika stepped forward and fiddled with a knot in the wood. The dark piece popped free, and in a moment Rika had used the hidden handhold to slide open a previously invisible door.  
Ducking down, Chloe led Lord Roman through the new opening, followed closely by Rika and then Elena. The tapestry scraped over his back as Drake only just managed to squeak through before Elena slid the door shut behind her. For a moment, he thought it had been too close, as Elena paused, listening closely where she stood. Drake held his breath, and after a few seconds Elena seemed to decide she was hearing things, as she turned around and rejoined her sisters, who were making their way toward an old wooden staircase. Chloe, who held a small torch in her hand (where had she gotten it from?), indicated to Lord Roman that he was to remain silent and stay close to her, and they four (plus Drake) began their descent.


	5. Underground

The staircase wound down and down for ages. Even with the light of Chloe’s torch, the dark seemed thick and heavy like fabric. At one point, Drake nearly stumbled on an uneven board, and he trod on the back of Elena’s cloak. She let out a little squeak of surprise and whipped around. He panicked for a moment and froze, and even when he remembered he was wearing Sully’s cloak he still stayed absolutely still, staring into her shadowed eyes as she tried to see in the darkness.  
“What is it, Elena?” Chloe whispered from below them.  
“Somebody stepped on my cloak,” she said, leaning forward and putting a hand out as if she would touch them. Drake shifted his weight back involuntarily.  
“Don’t be foolish,” Rika said. “There’s no one there.”  
“You must have snagged your cloak on a nail,” Chloe said, a little uneasily, then continued on downward. Drake kept a farther distance from the youngest princess from then on.  
Eventually the steps and walls switched from wood to slightly damp stone. Drake figured they must be far underground by now, maybe even within the mountain itself, but there was no way to be sure. They walked and walked until finally the air seemed to lighten, to loosen like a knot gone slack and falling out of itself, and they came to a door. Chloe placed her torch in a sconce on the wall, lifted the latch, and opened out onto an avenue shaded on either side by delicately leaved trees.  
But these were not any kind of trees Drake was familiar with, for each leaf on each and every branch was spangled with drops of silver, like beads of dew, shining splendidly all around them. It seemed as if the moon had been chipped into endless glitter and dusted over the grove.  
Lord Roman gasped in surprise, which was fortunate, because Drake wasn’t sure he didn’t have the same reaction. The sisters did not even hesitate, however, and maintained their brisk pace, leaving the men scurrying to keep up.  
Shortly, the delicate silver wood gave way to thicker, sturdier trees, but this wood was more amazing than the first. Here each leaf was covered with the finest, purest gold. The effect was of a perpetual sunset, smooth light that gilded the roughest edges. Again, the women did not pause.  
The first two woods were impressive—Drake could not deny that, even with all the wonders he had seen. But nothing prepared him for the final forest, which was more astounding than both that came before. The leaves of the third wood they walked through all glittered with diamonds. It was a marvelous sight, as if the leaves were dipped in clearest ice, or permanent snow, or the stars themselves had fallen from the sky all at once. It took nearly a full minute of walking before Drake realized his mouth was open.  
After the diamond wood they came to the edge of a lake, smooth as a mirror, where three little boats sat on the shore. In each boat was a man holding the oars, clearly awaiting the princesses’ arrival. Chloe escorted Lord Roman to the first boat, Rika stepped into the second, and Elena entered the third. Drake slipped into Elena’s boat, although he could have sworn that the man with the hat holding the oars stared right at him as he got on.  
Rika’s boat glided across the lake rapidly, and Chloe’s boat, holding three people, went slower, even though the oarsman was clearly rowing twice as hard. Elena’s boat, however, lagged behind the other two. “Tenzin, we’ve never gone this slow before,” Elena murmured, as she stared at her sister’s boats. “I wonder…” Tenzin said nothing, only shrugged his shoulders and continued rowing.  
When they finally bumped against the sandy shore of the opposite bank, Tenzin helped Elena out, and they both walked to where her sisters stood with Lord Roman and their oarsmen. The seven of them (plus Drake) then proceeded to a great clearing at the base of a splendid castle, with targets and crates with training gear spread out. Racks of weapons stood to one side, with all kinds of knives, swords, bows and arrows, spears, slender daggers and heavy maces, tridents, scythes, and weapons even Drake in all his travels had never seen. Spread throughout the clearing was close to fifty men who practiced wrestling, sparring, fencing, or just stood waiting. Chloe touched Lord Roman’s arm, and pointed towards a corner of the field.  
“Can we see your demonstration now? I’m so fascinated to see your fighting style. If I’m correct, Harry knows a similar style, isn’t that right?” The man who rowed Chloe’s boat across the lake, a tall man with broad shoulders, dark hair swept back from his forehead and a faint scar over his lip, stepped forward and nodded. Chloe continued, “Why don’t you two talk for a bit, work it out so you can demonstrate a few moves on him? Take your time, get some practice in. We’ll be watching other demonstrations over here.” Harry gave Chloe a lingering look as he and Roman moved aside and began to talk in hushed tones. The sisters waited until they were sure Roman was fully occupied, then moved to the other side of the field.  
“So I guess he bought it then?” Rika said to Chloe as she picked up an epee from a rack of swords and began inspecting it.  
“Pretty much,” Chloe said, strapping on a leather belt containing a brace of daggers, one at each hip. “He wasn’t as keen on showing off, but he loved the idea that I’m desperate to settle down.” Elena laughed as she pulled a chest plate on over her clothes, masking her curves.  
“Told you so.” She seized a fencing mask from a crate and tossed one to Rika. “His kind eats that story right up.”  
“I will never understand how these men can be so foolish to believe that any of us would be so quickly smitten with them that we’d reveal our secret that easily.” Rika yanked her hair up in a ponytail. “At least you’re a good actor, Chloe. I wouldn't be able to stop laughing at them.”  
“I know how she does it.” Elena nudged Rika in the ribs and jerked her chin towards where Lord Roman was now walking through some moves with Harry. “She just pretends they’re someone else.” The two giggled as Harry moved fluidly through a technique and left Roman sprawled on the ground and nodding sheepishly as the younger man helped him to his feet.  
Chloe tapped Elena on the butt with the flat of a saber. “That’s enough of that.” She raised her arm and three of the men in fencing gear ran over and paired off with the princesses. “Let’s work on off-hand techniques tonight,” she announced, and with that, each woman pulled her mask over her face, saluted her partner, and began to fence.  
Drake was beyond impressed; the princesses were some of the finest fencers he had ever seen. At certain points, a signal between them that Drake could not discern indicated that they were to switch weapons, so that each princess trained with each type of sword. The princesses had different styles as well—Chloe used forward attacks and favored the saber, Rika dodged well and was skilled with the additional targets in epee, and when Elena fought she could only be described as dancing, with willowy movements that suited the foil. No matter the style, their energy burned intensely and they trained hard for practical combat. It wasn’t long before their gloves and clothes were nicked and cut from the touches of the swords.  
At some point (again, Drake could not pick up on the signal for it) the sisters determined that their sword training was done, and they removed their fencing gear to begin fighting techniques. Again, each sister paired off with one of the men, and they ran through several warm-ups before beginning free form sparring. Chloe excelled at striking blows and frontal grappling. Rika threw her opponents and pinned them soundly to the ground. Elena was swift and hard to catch, and twisted her attackers’ limbs to immobilize their joints. What Drake noticed now that the masks were off was that the concentration and delight on the princesses’ faces made it clear that this was their passion. Of all of them, though, Elena seemed to him the most enthusiastic. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, her laugh rang out frequently, and it was clear to him that she loved this more than anything.  
They finally stopped and went over to see Lord Roman, whose demonstration against Harry was actually not bad. Harry clearly had the physical advantage of youth and strength, but Lord Roman was crafty and slipped away with more ease than Drake had expected. Chloe looked to Rika, who shrugged, unimpressed.  
When the princesses were satisfied with the demonstration, the whole group went in to the castle. Colorful hangings decorated the ceilings and great swords were crossed and hung with shields along the walls, and in the middle of the room was a long table set out with golden plates and golden cups. A meal of hearty breads, soft cheeses, thick soups, lean meats, and fresh fruits and vegetables was laid out in the candlelight. Drake hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he saw the food.  
During the meal, Lord Roman kept making efforts to engage Chloe in conversation, which she returned politely, but Drake could tell her heart wasn’t in it. At the end of supper, she nodded slightly to Harry, who had been sitting across from her. He got up, and returned with a goblet that he handed to Chloe.  
She turned to Roman and held out the goblet. “My lord. Would you toast to our future together?” Elena and Rika exchanged glances, but Roman didn’t notice and took the goblet eagerly.  
Roman stood and raised the goblet. “To our future,” he crowed. The princesses lifted their own glasses and echoed him, not entirely sincerely Drake thought. And, he noticed, while Elena and Rika were scrutinizing Roman closely, Chloe was looking at Harry.  
Roman drank the wine down quickly, and as he placed the goblet on the table, a strange glazed look came to his eyes. He gave a shake of his head, sat down quietly, and resumed eating.  
“Well,” Rika said. “If nothing else, we’ve got a new sparring partner.”  
“He might be able to teach us something,” Chloe replied. “I think he’s handy with a bow and arrow.”  
“We’ll see.”  
When the meal ended, the princesses returned to the boats at the edge of the lake. Roman did not get in.  
All at once, Drake realized who the men were. This was where the missing suitors had vanished to. Whatever had been in the wine Roman drank, it had somehow erased all his knowledge of his life and filled his heart with only a love of training and teaching. It was genius, really—all these men who had attempted to discover the princesses’ secret and reveal their combat training to their father, who would take away their mother’s heritage from them and bind them as submissive wives, were now engaged in maintaining the secret and teaching them all they knew.  
Once again, Drake snuck into Elena’s boat, and again Tenzin stared directly at the place he stood, as if he knew he were there, yet saying nothing. They passed back through the diamond wood, then the gold wood. As they walked through the grove of silver trees, Drake snapped off one twig to bring back with him. Elena jumped at the sound.  
“What was that?” she said to her sisters, even grabbing Rika’s elbow and turning her so she could look back with her.  
“It was nothing.” Rika shrugged her off. “We’re in a forest. Maybe the cry of an owl or something. You’re always hearing things.”  
As they climbed the stairs up to the princesses’ room, Drake ran up ahead, slipped out of the secret door, hoisted himself out the window and gingerly climbed down the side of the castle. He landed neatly in the garden and snuck back to his hut to steal an hour of sleep before his work for the morning began.


	6. Decisions

Drake convinced Karl to let him deliver the princesses’ corsages later that morning. Elena opened the door when he knocked (looking incredibly tired, he noticed this time).  
“Good morning, princess,” he all but chirped. “Sleep well last night?”  
“Yes, thank you,” she lied.  
“Where’s Lord Roman?”  
She said nothing. Drake shrugged and handed her the basket containing Rika’s corsage of rhododendrons and Chloe’s corsage of hyacinths.  
“There’s only two here,” Elena said as she peered into the basket.  
“Yes. Surprisingly enough I can, in fact, count,” Drake quipped. “This one is yours.” From behind his back he pulled out a splendidly arranged corsage of delicate peach blossoms, so fresh the dew still beaded on the pale pink petals. He bowed low as he handed it to her, and added, “I think you’ll find, princess, that it, like you, hides many secrets.”  
Puzzled, Elena examined her corsage, and was shocked to find, tucked among the blooms, a twig of spangled silver. She looked up at Drake in surprise, but he had already turned and disappeared around the corner. As Rika came to the door and took the basket from her, she asked Elena, “What was that all about?”  
Elena only hesitated for a moment before answering, “Nothing.”  
That night, Elena kept her eyes and ears sharply tuned for any sign of the Flower Boy. As Tenzin rowed the boat across the lake, he commented (in no language that Drake knew) that the boat was going awfully slow again.  
Elena replied, “It must be the heat,” and left it at that.  
Chloe, Rika and Elena began learning bow and arrow techniques from Lord Roman that night, who gave no indication that he had not been a part of their training corps for his entire life. Elena seemed slightly distracted, her eyes often glancing around her between shots, until Chloe finally reprimanded her for lack of concentration. After they were satisfied with their exercises for that night, they worked on defense against groups of attackers, and finally they all sat down for another replenishing meal.  
There was no guest of honor this night, so it was an uneventful meal this time around. Drake noticed that although Harry now sat at Chloe's right, they made no physical contact at all, and it was during this time that Chloe's face was the most guarded of all. Rika made a flippant comment about Lord Roman’s sudden silent devotion reminding her of some of the other suitors, and Elena shook her head sharply. Drake hoped to hear more on this, but Rika’s mouth snapped shut, and that was the end of that.  
As they came back, Drake took a branch from the golden wood, and this time it was Rika who heard the sound.  
“It’s just the noises of the forest, an owl or something,” Elena said quickly. “Ranged weapons training always leaves you paranoid, you know that.”  
Karl delivered the corsages that morning, but he spoke proudly of the care his assistant Drake had put into assembling them so early that morning. Elena found the golden twig among her corsage of honeysuckles. She went promptly out to the garden and found Drake trimming the hedges of the maze.  
“Where did you find this?” she demanded, holding out the golden twig.  
“Your Highness knows well enough,” Drake replied, setting down his pruning shears.  
“You followed us. How.” Her tone was that of a princess commanding an answer.  
Drake said nothing.  
Elena considered him for a moment, then threw down a small bag of gold.  
“I know how these things usually work with men like you,” she said, her chin held high. “For your silence.”  
“I didn’t offer it for sale,” he replied, and he picked up his shears and went on his way into the maze, leaving the bag on the ground.  
For three nights, Elena neither saw nor heard nothing on their visits to the training grounds. But on the fourth night, there was the unmistakable sound of a breaking branch in the diamond wood, and sure enough, the next morning she received a corsage of forget-me-nots with a diamond twig tucked among the blooms. And, she noted suspiciously as she marched through the gardens to knock on the door of Drake’s hut, “Uncle” Sullivan (or whatever he was) was now wearing much nicer clothes than he had been last week.  
Drake opened the door to the hut and Elena stepped right in and closed the door behind her.  
“Princess, I know I’m a good-looking guy and everything, but I think you can do better…”  
She whirled on him, furious that he could still joke when her head was spinning. “You know what my father has promised for our secret.”  
His tone sobered quickly. “I do.”  
“Well? Don’t you mean to tell him and claim the prize?” Her voice dripped sarcasm, yes, but Drake heard the pain and anger and fear in it as well.  
“That’s not my intention,” he said.  
“Then what do you want!?” she all but yelled. “We have kept this secret from our father since our mother died over ten years ago, and you are the first person to discover it alone, but you haven’t revealed it and you won’t take bribery. What else can you possibly want!?”  
Drake said nothing. Elena threw her hands up in frustration and gave a wordless cry of rage, then slammed her fist against the door. She rested her forehead against the grain of the wood and closed her eyes, trying to collect herself, when Drake touched her gently on the elbow.  
“Tell me about Harry and Chloe,” he said softly. “What happened?”  
She sighed heavily. “That’s not really my story to tell.”  
“Please. It’s the only missing piece. Help me understand you and your sisters.”  
At first he thought she wasn’t going to talk, but after a long moment, Elena spoke, low and tired.  
“I don’t know all of it. He was a thief of some kind. I don’t know how they met or how they managed to spend time together. Chloe never told me that. But they…they were in love. That much was obvious”  
Drake bit back the urge to make a snide remark.  
“They wanted to run away together, but Harry felt bad about not having any money to live on while they were traveling. He tried to break into the palace, steal some money for the trip. He was too proud to tell her his plan, which was probably the stupidest thing he could have done. If Chloe had helped him, he’d never have been caught.”  
“I believe that,” Drake muttered.  
“He was supposed to be executed, but his last request was to try and discover our secret. My father couldn’t say no, of course. Chloe was ready to let him reveal to our father our secret training so they could be married, but Harry knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He had embarrassed our father, and he doubted that he’d be able to get away with marrying a princess. He figured he’d be killed anyway.”  
“So he drank the wine,” Drake finished. Elena nodded.  
“It killed Chloe to see him do it, but she couldn’t bear to see him die, and she wouldn’t betray me and Rika. She knew what the training meant to us, and she couldn’t throw that away.”  
“I see.”  
Elena swiped at her eye and turned to face Drake. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You have nothing to fear from me. Your secret will stay safe.”  
She looked into his eyes for a long moment, and opened her mouth as if to speak, but at the last second changed her mind. Turning, she opened the door and hurried back towards the castle.  
Drake sat down and pressed his face in the palms of his hands.  
He knew what it was he needed to do.


	7. Resolution

That night, the princesses were surprised when their father showed up at their door with a well-dressed man whose face was shadowed by the dark cloak he had pulled up over his head.  
“Daughters,” he said to them as they met him in their nightgowns. “I’m sorry to spring this on you last minute, but I have a gentleman here who wishes to try his hand at your secret and he wanted to keep it quiet.” However the king felt about this, he masked it well. He gave the same speech that he had given to Lord Roman, then once again locked the princesses and the man in.  
The princesses looked at each other in shock, and Chloe was about to swoop in and start ad-libbing when the man pulled the hood of his cloak back.  
“Flower Boy!?” Chloe exclaimed, and her surprise was not unwarranted. The gardener’s assistant was dressed so finely that no one, not even the king, had realized he was anything less than a nobleman. Drake said nothing, only bowed low and took his seat in the chair.  
Elena pulled her sisters aside. “He knows our secret. He knows!”  
“How is that possible!?” Rika exclaimed, but Elena did not reply.  
Chloe set her jaw. “This changes nothing. We will simply have to get him to drink the wine.” She began to walk back to Drake, but Elena stopped her.  
“Let me,” she said, and the look in her eyes was so earnest and familiar that Chloe acquiesced.  
Elena approached Drake awkwardly, unsure of what she intended to say or do. She had just settled on trying some sort of imitation of her older sister when Drake stood.  
“Shall I wait for you to prepare for your training tonight, my lady?”  
Elena only nodded, then shut the door to the antechamber. In a short time, the door reopened again, and she gestured for him to enter the room. The three princesses were clad in their new habits, gloves and boots. Elena held out her arm for Drake to escort her, but he politely bowed and instead took Chloe’s hand.  
“If I may?” he asked, and she nodded. Rika shrugged and pulled back the tapestry. Elena slid the door open, puzzled and strangely hurt, and they began their descent.  
At the training field that night, Drake fenced with each of the princesses in turn, and each of them marveled at how skilled he was. Later, he demonstrated his scrappy form of hand-to-hand combat with Harry, and taught each sister a particularly useful slide and kick combination that they found most unique. He was perfectly polite and helpful to each princess, and Elena found him the best sparring partner she’d ever had, but he was careful to never say an unnecessary word to her.  
Finally, finally it was time for the meal. The food was as finely prepared and sumptuous as ever, but Elena found it dry and unappetizing. As the meal drew to a close, Chloe made a signal and the same golden goblet that had stolen Lord Roman’s mind was brought forth.  
“You have discovered all of our secrets, and proved a useful and honorable competitor,” she said holding out the goblet. “Let us drink to your triumph.”  
Drake said nothing, but looked long at Elena as a man dying of dehydration might look at an oasis, then took the cup and without hesitation raised it to his lips.  
Time seemed to slow for the youngest princess as she looked from Drake to Chloe and Rika, to Harry, and back to Drake.  
“Wait,” she suddenly cried out. “Don’t drink it!”  
He paused.  
“There has to be some other way,” Elena said to her sisters. She looked at Chloe. “Please. Isn’t there another way?”  
“Only running,” Chloe murmured.  
“Why not?” Elena said. “We can take care of ourselves. We can all get away, start living real lives out in the world. Rika, didn’t you tell me you wanted out soon anyway?” Her sister nodded silently. Elena looked at Drake.  
“Come with us. Please. I love you. I don’t want to lose you. Come with us.”  
Drake threw the cup to the ground and took Elena’s hands. “I told you there was nothing to fear from me. Of course I’ll come.”  
At that moment, Harry swayed slightly where he stood, then crumpled to the ground. Chloe let out a cry and ran to his side. He shook his head hard and blinked woozily.  
“What’d I miss?” he said, then his eyes slid into focus. “Chloe…” he touched her cheek gently and smiled. “You’re all right.” Tears welled in her eyes as she met his gaze, and all around them the men at the table shook their heads, asking each other where they were and what had happened. The charm had been broken.  
Drake took Elena by the hand, and Chloe helped Harry up and embraced him tightly. Rika rolled her eyes and began herding the throngs of very confused men out to the lake. It took many, many trips to get all of them across in just the three boats, but eventually they managed it, and Rika and Tenzin led the way through the diamond, gold, and silver woods. As they went, they heard a great sound as if the castle were crumbling to dust behind them, and Drake saw Harry slip not a small number of handfuls of bejeweled leaves into his pockets as they passed.  
“Chloe,” Rika whispered to her sister as they began their climb up the stairs followed by nearly fifty men, “what are we going to do when we get out?”  
“We’ll have to at least talk to father,” Chloe said in a low voice. “We have practically an army here, there’s no way he can stop us. But he at least deserves to know our decision.”  
“But what about Harry?”  
Chloe winced, but Harry squeezed her hand tightly. “I’ll hide in the back,” he said. “I’m not losing you again.”  
As the last of the suitors exited the secret panel, the door to the princesses’ room swung open. To say the king was shocked at the sight he beheld would not even begin to cover it.  
Chloe, Rika and Elena stepped forward.  
“Good morning, Daddy.”  
Their father blinked once, then twice. “hrgcklblrg—”  
He sat down in the antechamber chair rather harder than necessary, and his daughters explained to him their secret in entirety, beginning with their mother’s fencing lessons they’d loved so much, through their initial plans to continue training even after her death and their father’s decree, and the eventual collection of their suitors as training partners and combat instructors. They presented the golden goblet as proof of their nighttime adventures, and explained in slow patient words that they were now planning to leave the palace and explore the world.  
“We can take care of ourselves, Father,” Chloe explained softly. “We won’t stay here forever.”  
The king said nothing for a long time, then he took Chloe’s hands in his own. “You’re all so much like your mother,” he began. “She was so fierce, so strong. I used to think there was nothing she couldn’t do. And perhaps when she died, when I was forced to realize she was only mortal and fragile as the rest of us, I was scared to discover that the same thing could happen to you three.” He wiped his eyes, then stood.  
“You’re right. I love you so much, but I can’t keep you forever. I regret that I mistook trying to keep you safe with grieving for your mother.”  
“We won’t be gone forever,” Elena said as she wrapped her arms around her father in a hug. “I promise.”  
“And me,” Rika added.  
“Me too,” Chloe said.  
And they meant it.


	8. Epilogue

Chloe and Harry packed that very night. Time had done nothing to dampen their affections for each other, and Elena had never heard her sister laugh so brightly now that he was back. There might have been a few pieces of silverware missing when they left the next morning, but Chloe had always been a mischievous sort and Harry was absolutely smitten with her. Whenever Elena received letters from her eldest sister, they were always full of glowing descriptions of the amazing adventures she and Harry had conning pompous nobility or exploring far off lands, and it was clear that nothing made Chloe happier.  
Rika took off on her own, and trained at a number of foreign schools of martial arts and weaponry. She competed in tournaments in lands far and wide, and collected enough medals and trophies to fill an entire castle. These of course meant nothing to her, and so, ever the practical one, she had them melted down and used to open a training center for women in Malcaniston, which she devoted herself to for the rest of her life.  
Sullivan remained with Karl for a number of years, the two of them living comfortably on unknown capital, spending a lot of time and even more coin at the local taverns. Eventually his money ran out, however, and Sully got into a few too many scrapes with angry brothers and fathers of ladies in Malcaniston, and one night he simply disappeared. Word had it that he hadn’t gone far, and rumors circulated that he was involved in the rescue of a princess with absurdly long hair a few villages over, but no one ever really knew for certain.  
Elena and Drake traveled for many years, exploring underground libraries and long-abandoned palaces and booby-trapped ruins together, until one day Elena received news that her father was ready to hand off his kingdom to one of his daughters, and that Chloe and Rika had politely declined that responsibility, leaving her heir to the throne.  
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Drake asked her as they lay in bed together one night. “That’s….that’s huge.”  
“I know. But it’s a chance to do right by my father’s subjects. There’s so much good I can do with it.” She twined her fingers with his. “He lifted the decree banning women from carrying and using weapons, sure, but there’s still much more to be done. I don’t think any of the women in the guilds are making the same salaries as men, for instance. There’s no pay for women when they’re pregnant, or for men who want to stay home with their children. And I mean,” she added with a smile, “there would also be so many opportunities to wear big fluffy dresses.”  
“With a sword, I hope?” Drake added, and she nuzzled closer to him in the dark.  
“Especially with a sword. How much fun would that be?” She looked up at him and touched his cheek. “Would…you wouldn’t mind, would you?”  
Drake kissed the top of her forehead. “Not at all. I kind of like it. Prince Consort is a long way from Flower Boy, right?”  
Elena’s eyebrows drew together. “Prince Consort?”  
“Assuming you agree, of course.” He reached over the side of the bed and removed something from the pocket of his trousers.  
“Well, Elena?” he asked, holding it up to her. “Will you marry me?”  
Elena’s mouth dropped in surprise, She took the ring from him and studied it in the moonlight—the band was simple gold, but attached to it was a tiny leaf spangled with diamonds.  
“I—I…”  
“‘Yes’ would be the most preferable response,” Drake quipped, but Elena heard the nerves in his tone.  
“Of course I will,” she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he returned with enthusiasm. “Of course.”

And, needless to say, they all lived happily ever after.


End file.
